


Under His Wings (Your Refuge)

by EA_Lakambini



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Introspection, M/M, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), fanart with story, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EA_Lakambini/pseuds/EA_Lakambini
Summary: While walking in the garden, Aziraphale finds Crowley asleep.Made for the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards/Grow Better Holiday Swap 2020!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20





	Under His Wings (Your Refuge)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HolyCatsAndRabbits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/gifts).



> Prompt: Aziraphale or Crowley sleeping in the other’s arms while the other is awake, monster snuggling with Crowley in naga or humanoid demon form and Aziraphale as human or in humanoid angel form, anything with wings and haloes showing.  
> Art medium: Pencil sketch, watercolor, and felt-tip pens.
> 
> Unbetaed. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> I am absolutely floored to create something for the incomparable [HolyCatsAndRabbits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/HolyCatsAndRabbits) for this holiday gift swap! I hope you find the art good enough for your wall, and the story good enough in general. :)
> 
> Thank you as well to the mods for making this event happen!

_“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge._ _  
_ _His faithful promises are your shield and rampart.”_

_\- Psalm 91:4_

_*~*~*~*~*_

_They look so different asleep._

Aziraphale muses on this as he walks down the soft paths. In the past days he has observed all living things in the garden; half the time he finds them lively and full of activity, seemingly unceasing in their speed and their strength. The other half, they are silent and vulnerable, all other concerns coming second to the stillness and slumber. In the thrum of wakefulness, they range from scurrying ant to diving shark to lumbering elephant to soaring eagle. But asleep they all seem the same - quiet and trusting.

And so, he walks on, and eventually finds Crawley asleep under a tree. The demon is completely at repose, his head resting on his arm against the warmed rocks, and his lower body gently folded in long loops to settle on the grass. The sunlight filters through the branches above, streaks of yellow against obsidian scales.

Aziraphale gazes down at the demon, the serpent, the _enemy_ \- coppery locks tumbling free over pale shoulders, long thin fingers tipped with claws, shimmering scales of black and red and gold, high cheekbones and delicate lips on a face free of any cares. He should smite him right as he lay. It is his mandate as an angel, and it is so simple.

Crawley is alone and asleep. Quiet, trusting. In this moment, no different from all the lives in this garden that Aziraphale was placed to protect.

Aziraphale extends his wings over Crawley, shielding him from the harsh sun, from Heaven's overbright gaze. He leans in close to brush back some errant strands of hair; the demon lets out a soft breath, and smiles. Aziraphale places a cautious hand on Crawley’s shoulder, and wonders at how this demon of so many questions can be so certain.

*~*~*~*~*

_He looks no different, asleep._

Aziraphale muses on this as he walks down the soft paths of another garden. The past days in the little windswept cottage by the sea - a cottage that is apparently now theirs - have been filled with activity. Crowley had set up a veritable greenhouse both indoors and out, while Aziraphale found ways to fill every shelf and corner of the rooms with his books. His days are now filled with Crowley; with talking and laughing, golden-eyed smiles and tender touches. The nights are filled with more of the same, just more tenderly. Awake or asleep, Crowley is incandescent in this life that he now shares fully with Aziraphale.

He finds Crowley asleep under a tree, gardening shears abandoned in the grass. He is in his half-serpentine form, and Aziraphale is brought up short by how beautiful his husband is. Whether he is a streak of speed and snark and sunglasses, or private and placid and at peace, Crowley is wonderful and loving and trusting. He always had been, even before Aziraphale had learned to see him beyond _foul fiend_ and _hereditary enemy._

Aziraphale stretches out his wings once more, gently enveloping his beloved. He again leans in close, but this time to press a soft kiss against the fiery curls, and to softly repeat sweet promises to this one he cherishes above all living things. It is here, by his side, that Aziraphale feels is home - one that has been his own refuge from the very start.

And just as he had millennia ago, Crowley sighs contentedly in his sleep, and smiles, and Aziraphale remembers how it feels to have faith.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for dropping by!


End file.
